


Rocks to Build Castles

by Jay_Wells



Series: The Odd Life of Alexander Hamilton [12]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angie is literal minded, Gen, Pizza, building things out of cardboard boxes, children can do weird obsessive things for hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Wells/pseuds/Jay_Wells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm no Philosopher, you see, and may be justly said to Build Castles in the Air."<br/>Eliza had taken the children to Hyde Park, figuring they could run around while she ambled behind and wear themselves out. Instead, they wanted her to sit on a park bench while they collected river rocks. It was cute at first, but the pile was getting rather large.<br/>Somehow, she suspected, this was Alex’s doing.<br/>He really needed to stop using rhetoric on three-year-olds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rocks to Build Castles

“Papa, why are just staring at your book?”

Alexander shook himself out of his daze, _The House of Morgan_ , laying open on his lap. Angie’s hands, still chubby with baby fat, were on his knees as she leaned forward. “Papa?”

“Sorry, Angie, can you repeat your question?”

She huffed. “I wanna know why you aren’t reading your book. You’re just staring at it.”

“I’m building castles in the air.” He closed the book and set it on the nightstand.

“Where? I don’t see them.” She spun in a circle, looking for floating castles.

Alexander laughed. “No, baby. I mean I’m doing work in my head. I’m making a plan to get the country out of debt.”

“That sounds boring,” Angie informed him. “You should build real castles. Those are cool.”

“I should, shouldn’t I.” As he said it, he got an idea. “Hey, Betsey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” she called from the office, which she’d commandeered for the afternoon to take care of some paperwork for the half-way home she worked at. “What d’you need?”

“Can you get the kids out of the house for a while? I’ve got something to take care of, and I need to not have them running amuck.”

Eliza burst into the living room, hands on her hips. “What do you think I am -- a nurse? I’ve got to finish this paperwork, start dinner, wash dishes and you want me to take them out somewhere on top of that?” She collapsed onto the couch next to him. “Alex, I love you and I love the children, but it’s exhausting.”

He took her hand and kissed it. “I know, Betsey, and we couldn’t get along without you. I promise this is worth it. I’ll take care of dinner and the dishes tonight, and you can leave the baby here. He’ll just sleep the whole time anyway.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Last time you ‘took care of dinner,’ you ruined my good saucepan.”

“Yeah.” He grimaced, remembering the disaster with the spaghetti. He really wasn't good at cooking anything that needed constant attention. “Maybe I’ll just order pizza instead.”

“Fine.” She gave him a weary kiss on the cheek. “Those dishes have better be spotless." She turned around and shouted, "Philip, Angie, get your shoes on. We’re going to the park.”

“Yay!” Philip ran down the steps, struggling to get one shoe on.

“Philip,” Eliza sighed, “how many times have I told you not to run down the steps? Here, let me help. Alex?”

Alexander stood up. “Angie, go get your shoes. I’ll help you tie them. Don’t forget your jacket.”

Angie trotted over with her tennis shoes and jacket, and he helped her get ready. “There you go. Behave for your Mama.”

“You’re not coming,” she stated. Disappointed, she sighed, “Bye, Papa. See you later.”

The two trotted after their mother and shut the door.

Alexander picked up the phone. The line picked up on the third ring. “John, do you still have all that cardboard?”

“Yeah.” John sounded baffled. “Why, do you need it? I can’t imagine why you would, but you’re fucking weird so maybe you do.”

“Absolutely. I need it today, as soon as possible.” He was starting to get excited. “It’s important.”

“Alex, I’d bring it, but Frances is sick, and I really don’t want her left alone … ”

He understood John’s reluctance. France had lost her mother to sickness when she was seven, and John hadn’t been around for her while she was growing up. “Bring Fanny, too. I don’t mind. She can crash on the couch, or in my and Betsey’s bed. The kids are out, so it’s quiet. Please, John?”

There was a long pause from John, and Alexander knew he’d won. “Alright, I’ll be over in ten. Better be good food.”

“Thanks, John. You really are the best.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He clucked his tongue. “Your whims are weird, man.”

Alexander laughed. “See you soon.”

The line went dead, and he dialed the next number. “James? Could you get me some spray paint? I'll reimburse you.”

 

* * *

 

Eliza had taken the children to Hyde Park, figuring they could run around while she ambled behind and wear themselves out. Instead, they wanted her to sit on a park bench while they collected river rocks. It was cute at first, but the pile was getting alarmingly large.

Somehow, she suspected this was Alex’s doing.

“Baby, why are you collecting rocks?” she asked after the first half hour.

“To build castles.” Angie said flippantly, taking a break from rock-collecting to neaten the pile and admire the “pretty purple rock,” which was actually a wet brown rock. “Papa says he builds castles in the sky. I want him to make me a real one. You need rocks for castles.”

Alex needed to quit using rhetoric on three-year-olds.

After three hours, Philip started to complain that he was hungry, and Eliza gladly conceded to ferry them home. Except they insisted on bringing home the rocks. All of them. And Eliza was way too tired to argue. She pulled her cell phone from her purse and called Alex.

“Hel-lo, my lovely wife,” he chirped. He sounded entirely too pleased with himself, and Eliza felt a surge of annoyance. 

“I’m bringing the kids home.” Angie dropped a rock just then, and there was a huge production of reclaiming it without sending the rest spilling over New York’s sidewalks. The other parents were judging her. “I really hope that you actually did the dishes and did not burn down the kitchen.”

“Everything’s fine. We have a couple guests for dinner, though,” he said. “I had to call in the calvary.”

“What was so urgent that you needed the house cleared, anyway?”

“You may guess and guess and guess again,” he singsonged, “and your guessing will still have been in vain.”

“That doesn’t even rhyme,” she groaned. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in five.”

“Love you!”

“Love you, too.” She closed the phone and replaced it in her bag.

 

* * *

 

When she arrived, Alex was standing proudly with his older brother James, John, John’s daughter Fanny and bouncing AJ. All three men had dried paint on their hands. Presumably, they had -- well, she actually had no idea what he’d been doing that required a doctor and a carpenter, but she could smell the pizza right now, so she’d worry later. Four boxes were stacked up on the kitchen counter with a collection of paper plates and cups and two bottles of soda next to it. Eliza rolled her eyes fondly and herded the children over to the pizza. In their excitement, they dropped all of the rocks in the middle of the living room.

Eliza groaned.

Alex stepped in between her and the rocks and wrapped his arms around her waist. He swayed her back and forth. “Don’t worry. I’ll fix it. Sit down and relax, and I’ll help the kids get their food. What kind of pizza do you want?”

She sighed. “One mushroom, one pepperoni, thanks.”

She settled down onto the couch next to Fanny, who was wrapped up in a blanket, and blinking as if she had just woken up. John returned from the kitchen balancing two plates of pizza and a cup of ginger ale. He set a plate with a small slice of cheese pizza on her lap and placed the cup on the end table next to her. “Try and eat a little, 'kay, hon? Drink this, and let me know if you feel queasy.”

Fanny nodded and took a bite of pizza before setting it aside. “Can’t eat anymore, Daddy.”

“O.K.”

James was on the other side of her, scarfing down his pizza and giving her knowing glances. “Trust me, it’s great. You’ll totally flip.”

Considering Alex was involved, that was probably true. It just might not be “great” in a good way.

After dinner, Alex told the children to pick out a couple rocks each and come to the backyard.

They all went out, save Fanny, who had passed out on the couch again.

In the middle of their backyard was a canopy with clear plastic siding, protecting a toddler-sized cardboard castle colored with pink spray paint and decorated with a sharpie-drawn unicorn that was ugly enough to be cute. Attached to the left side was another cardboard structure, labeled “Knight’s Keep.” James and John grinned and pulled the long cords on either side of the castle and a cardboard dragon popped up, moving forward and back with each pull.

Angie squealed in delight and charged onward, flinging rocks at the dragon, and Philip picked up a stick and ran after her.

Eliza turned to Alex. “You’re a dork, you know that?”

“You love it,” he teased.

“Won’t deny it,” she laughed.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you catch the Chernow reference?


End file.
